What a special evening I had.
Dear friends of mine (and leaders in this ministry) went into the city last night to check on the progress of Baby #3's entrance into the world. They had asked Sophie and I to stay with their two oldest last night. What a special time. It was both a challenge (in the best way) and a blessing to be able to spend the evening and night with those sweet boys. Trying to keep dinner cooking, the fire burning, laundry going, boys from biting (or playing in the toilet) was an adventure. What an insight into the lives of Moms: intentional, intentional, intentional. It took me close to an hour to get a load of laundry on the line because while I wanted to finish my task, stopping to gently correct a three year old when he had been too rough with his brother was more important. Just as important was interrupting myself to celebrate him when I saw him help his brother into their imaginary fire truck made out of a card board box. When the oldest didn't something I did approve of I would get down on his level and ask him for his eyes and wait until he'd given me eye contact so I had a better chance of the few seconds of attention. It made me laugh out loud by the end of the night when I knelt beside him after pushing his brother and he covered his eyes.
And I loved every minute of it.
I loved chasing pretend monsters. I loved sticking a plastic hook into my sleeve and chasing "Jake" (check out Disney Jr. "Jake" is the new Peter Pan). I loved making a hot chocolate for the oldest and laughing with him as I held him up to the mirror to see his "mustache." I loved getting drenched during bath time. I loved watching them scream with laughter when I would growl and roar over top them. I loved the diapered bottom hoping into my lap for stories. I loved watching little fingers and noses press up against clean windows waiting for Sophie to come sing to them. I loved watching the boys hug after I let them be in the same room again after a particularly nasty "wrestle."
I loved sitting down to watch a movie knowing that two little boys were happy, safe and fast asleep. That although it was work to keep my eyes open at ten o'clock that the boys had felt love all night long. That although maybe we had one too many special treats. Ok, maybe they got to leave the table before they should have, and we did lose quite a bit of bath water to splashing. They were loved, they were happy, they were cared for.
And for me? That's missions.